


Pull Me Closer

by Luka z Rivii (wayward_dream)



Series: Lu's Bday Drabbles [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M, Geralt also absolutely keeps a journal, Reader-Insert, You can't change my mind, geralt is SOFT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23691538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_dream/pseuds/Luka%20z%20Rivii
Summary: Geralt comforts you after a nightmare.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Reader, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Series: Lu's Bday Drabbles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706101
Comments: 1
Kudos: 79





	Pull Me Closer

You bolted upright in your bed, gasping in ragged breaths. The details of your nightmare were already fading from your consciousness, leaving you feeling shaky and disoriented as you rubbed your eyes. You buried your face in your hands, counting silently in and out as you tried to even out your breaths.

“Y/N?” you heard and you yelped in alarm, lifting your head.

“G-Geralt! Did….did I wake you?” you asked nervously, ducking your head and wringing your blanket in your hands.

“I was awake,” he muttered. “What happened?”

“I….I had a bad dream,” you whispered, feeling embarrassment color your cheeks. The fire in the hearth was fading, only dim coals illuminating the room, but it was enough to make out Geralt sitting in the chair by the fireside. His eyes shone eerily through the gloom, studying you thoughtfully, and you swallowed hard. “Why are you awake?” you asked.

You thought you saw him shrug one shoulder. “I got a couple of hours and didn’t need more.”

You scooted further down the bed until you sat on the edge, bare feet brushing the cool floor as you dangled them. “What were you doing?”

Geralt sighed. “Nothing important. Go back to sleep, Y/N.”

“Not...not yet.” You shook your head, hugging yourself and staring at your feet. “I don’t….I don’t think I can.”

You could feel his gaze on you. “You need more rest.”

“Just….give me a bit.” You hesitated, picking at a loose string of your nightgown.

“What is it?” he asked, voice uncharacteristically soft. Biting your lip, you looked up at him from under your lashes. In the dim light you couldn’t make out his expression. It made you somehow bolder, in this intimate and secluded atmosphere.

“Will you come sit with me for a bit?” you asked softly. “I think I’d feel better if I wasn’t by myself.”

You saw Geralt tilt his head. “You’d feel….safer with me next to you?” he asked, sounding puzzled. Smiling faintly, you nodded.

“Very much so. But you don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable,” you added hastily. “I would never want to--”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, standing and moving over. You scooted back and laid down in your bed, leaving plenty of space for him to settle beside you, leaning against the headboard with his legs stretched out. He radiated heat and you basked in it, longing to scoot closer, perhaps rest your head on his thigh, but unwilling to push his boundaries. Geralt was so reserved, you didn’t want to do anything to breach his trust. You laid your head on your pillow instead, looking up at him.

“What were you doing, before I woke?” you asked quietly. Geralt sighed and held something up. You squinted.

“It’s my journal,” he muttered. “I keep accounts of where to find certain herbs, encounters of monsters and….” He trailed off, sounding almost embarrassed.

“And?” you prompted gently, curious but not prying, willing to back down if he didn’t want to share.

He exhaled quietly, not quite a sigh. “And I keep a record of people I saved from said monsters,” he muttered. “It….reminds me of why I do what I do, when I begin to doubt the Path. It keeps me...focused.” He snorted. “It’s stupid--”

“I don’t think it’s stupid at all,” you interrupted softly. “I think it’s noble and sweet, that that means so much to you.” You reached out, touching his arm gently. “You’re a good man, Geralt of Rivia.”

Geralt went still under your touch, and you worried for a moment you’d overstepped. Just as you started to withdraw, his hand covered yours, squeezing gently, and you smiled. He wasn’t good with words, but that simple gesture told you how grateful he was to hear that.

“You should rest,” he told you quietly.

“Will you read to me?” you asked quietly, pillowing your hands under your cheek.

“They’re not...happy stories, Y/N,” he muttered.

“But they’re  _ your _ stories. If you don’t mind sharing them, I’d like to hear. Please?”

Geralt sighed. “Do you promise to rest if I do?”

“I promise to try,” you countered, and you thought you heard him chuckle quietly.

“Alright then. Get comfortable.” He shifted his weight, settling down a bit more, and you bit your lip, hesitantly scooching a bit closer to him. When he didn’t rebuff you, you tentatively rested your head on his thigh. He was still, but after a few moments he relaxed and you smiled faintly, letting your eyes drift shut. You could smell the leather of his armor, and the soap he’d used in the bath, but you also caught something that was entirely  _ Geralt,  _ earthy and musky and rich, and it soothed you.

He began to read from his journal, and rather than listening to the words you got lost in the low timbre of his voice, rich and pleasant and lulling you into a light doze. You sighed quietly, content, and heard him pause before he continued. You vaguely registered a light touch sliding through your hair, but you were floating in a pleasant haze between waking and sleep, soothed by the simple warmth and intimacy of the moment.

You gradually fell back asleep, secure in the knowledge that Geralt was watching over you, his gruff voice soothing away any residual fear from your nightmare. Curled up and resting with him nearby, you’d never felt so safe.


End file.
